All Talk and No Bite
by Arya Kirkland
Summary: Amelia and Maddie travel to Russia to carry out a top secret mission from their bosses. It's harder than it seems... [fem!rus/fem!ame]
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's note:**_ The story was done by two authors: myself and my wonderful friend Julia who, without her, I wouldn't have a story at all! I love her very much~

Please read the bottom for explanation of some characters' names.

**xXx**

It looked sinful. Yes, she was waiting for this moment for what seemed like years. The oozing cheese that seeped out from the very corners of the familiar American cheesesteak made her salivate profusely. It looked so scrumptious - this little concoction handcrafted by Satan himself! The intricate folds of sizzling beef only made the impulsive young woman shift in her seat uncomfortably as she attempted to brush off the beads of sweat forming on her palms on her jacket.

A rich aroma of freshly-made beef permeated her sinuses as she hovered over the plate with a devilish look in her eye. She figured she'd exercise twice as hard that day to make up for the ridiculous amount of calories consumed from just one savory bite. Besides, it was all a part of her daily ritual to keep her fantastic "girlish figure." After all, she had to best that dreadful England in everything - especially looks, but that wasn't too hard to do.

But nevermind all of that! The blonde grew increasingly impatient and reached for the sandwich. It was so inviting and non-judgmental. Yes, this was true love at last - something worth dying for: that special thing which made her feel a thousand times better day after day! It called her name like a broken record player, over and over, as her long, slender fingers began to quiver around the treacherous sin.

Pulling the piping hot sandwich to her lips, she cocked her head to the side and eagerly opened her mouth…

"- Amelia! Are you listening?!"

The young woman's bright, sky-blue eyes shot wide open with a sudden gasp. She shook her head frantically from side to side, brushing away the lingering fog of her dream. The voice was booming and unpleasant, similar to nails on a chalkboard. The American learned to hate the voice throughout the course of her complex yet short history.

"Pay attention!" The man demanded as he slammed his fist down on the wood once more, almost splitting the surface in two. If he was just an arm's length away, he would already be pouncing his daydreaming representative.

She shifted her gaze back to the window as she relaxed the muscles in her face. That's right - she was stuck in this horribly boring meeting with her boss. How the ill-mannered girl hated these talks. They seemed to lead nowhere: it was just wishful brainstorming sessions on how to bring democracy to this land and that land… something of that nature. As much as she enjoyed being the heroine of it all, the human side of her began to feel fatigued after many years of traveling back and forth as she pursued distant lands.

At that instant, the girl yearned to be transported to another time and place once again. She fixed her attention on a lone baby blue jay enthusiastically chirping and singing its morning songs just on the other side of the glass. It was beautiful, how free it was: it could bathe in the sunlight without a care in the world and without anyone to answer to.

"...son of a bitch. This crap again..." She grumbled. Reluctantly lending an ear, she crossed her arms against her chest, disturbing the fabric of her bulky bomber jacket. She showed her boss a flawless poker face.

The man did not seem to hear her protesting. Instead, another slam left the antique table shaking. "This is serious! If you don't start listening, we will be at their mercy!"

"At _her_ mercy, is it?" She shot her boss a quick glare, her voice unusually flat. His multiple, unrelenting demands started to get on her nerves. Amelia didn't care much for politics and was even more turned off by the way her boss would always debrief her... and weekly, too! Wasn't her government built to deal with such issues (even as unstable as it was)? She had more important things to do like... watch all the home openers for baseball. Yeah, she was missing all of those! Who woulda thought? And who exactly was winning the Dodgers-Phillies game, anyway?! Amelia would have loved to know.

Then the American girl remembered the countless summer get-togethers she hosted with her allies. She missed those. It was a shame that she couldn't watch the various blunders England made when she was shitfaced during these things, or the delicious cannolis Italy made for their dessert. But she certainly didn't miss the part when France took off all her clothes. That was a sight she would love to soon forget!

"But what about little ol' me? You never let me do anything fun...like having barbeques on Saturdays! You took that away too!"

"Things like that shouldn't be part of the budget, Jones..."

She could only let out a deep sigh as her eyes returned to the little bird outside. Without a care, it fluttered its wings and flew away in a heartbeat. She gently shook her head, her soft, dirty blonde curls cascading over her shoulder as she fixated on the vacant branch. "What do I get outta this...?"

"A new _Ultra Gamebox 4_. This is what you want, yes?" The voice sounded irritated to suggest it, but knew the girl couldn't resist two things: food and games. He needed this done.

Amelia's eyes sparkled: now full of life. She instantly shot up from her seat, her fingers spread with force against the table below. The chair flew back violently and slammed into the wall behind her. "R-Really?! You'll seriously do that?! You swear on your life?!"

The boss was thrown off guard, in shock at the sudden explosiveness. However, this was always in her nature. After all these years of dealing with the unruly, gluttonous little nation, he could never get fully used to her over excitable personality. "I-I guess. As long as you carry out the mission –"

" – and go through Liberty City and get our money back, yeah?! And beat up all them thugs, and... and save the beautiful damsel in distress!" The blonde flailed her arms about, not mindful of any bodies potentially sitting beside her.

"That's– no," The older man motioned his young representative to have a seat but to no avail. When he realized this was not working, he brought a hand up to fix his tie. He cleared his throat and, with the other, took out a small recording device bundled up in in thin black wires from his pant pocket. It was a small, gray and almost microscopic microphone that could be easily hidden and hard even for the trained eye to see.

"You are to wire this through your clothing and gather all the information you can. Is that clear?" Her boss threw the device onto the table before the standing American.

Amelia instantly recognized the device as she ran her fingers through her hair to see without any obstructions. How could she forget this little device? It has been at least 10 years since she used a tool such as this, when her skills of espionage were then top-notch. Usually her citizens tended to such complicated matters. But then she remembered the Revolutionary War, World War II, the Cold War, Vietnam – there were many times throughout her short history when Amelia herself resulted to such tactics. She despised sneaking off just to gather 'intelligence'. After all, it usually resulted in some kind of military action. Being calculated and reserved always made her super antsy and irritated.

However, a challenge was always welcomed. She entangled her fingers within the wires of the device and brought it up to her face to get a better look at it. A smirk grew across Amelia's glossy, soft pink lips as she thought of all the discord she could create with this specific advanced piece of technology.

In an instant, she threw her arm to her side, the device still dangling from her palm. The faithful representative stood up straight and gave her boss a whole hearted salute with a quick flick of her right wrist. The words he wanted to hear rolled off her tongue almost effortlessly: "Y-yes sir! For our freedom, sir!"

"Such a good patriot," A smile crept across his face. Business was finished. He had her word and creed. The man brought himself to his feet and gathered up the paperwork before him, stacking the papers and manila folders in a neat pile. "To help you, I have asked our northern neighbors for their assistance. Your sister Maddie will be accompanying you in your travels."

"Oh God, not _her! _Leave Maddie out of this!" Amelia inhaled sharply as she tensed up at the thought. She dug her rugged, unkempt fingernails into the wood, leaving small, fresh crescent marks where they were dug. _She_ wanted to be the hero... no one else! Besides, Maddie always found ways to ruin her super awesome plans! Damnit, this was not going to happen! She had to say something! Like hell Canada was going to take the spotlight away from her…

"I-I think it's too late for that..." A soft, trembling voice could be heard from the hallway beyond the conference room's doors.

"..._fuck_."

**xXx**

Morning. The weekend. Peace and quiet. What could be more beautiful than a weekend after a tiring week full of work? That's right, nothing could compare. Anya herself agreed.

"Good morning,"

She involuntary winced, still halfway in the world of dreams. She was naturally a deep sleeper, of course, but in the morning, even ordinary rustling could easily wake her. That's why she liked to sleep alone.

"Morning… good, M-miss… there's some urgent business– "

"...?" Because the sun was hidden behind rain clouds, the room was dark and dreary. It was also cold, due to an open window. The atrocious weather outside was unseasonable for the capital, but after several weeks of enduring it all, she somehow got used to it. She dressed warmer than usual for this time of year, and, as a lady, would not leave home without her little pink umbrella and stylish gloves in her purse.

"There is an urgent c-call,"

The woman instinctively turned to the other side, wrapping herself even tighter within her favorite soft and warm blanket.

After gathering all the will he could muster, the little blonde boy beside her, dressed in a decadent red uniform, clenched his fists tightly and shouted with fast, slurred speech.

"Good morning, Miss Anna! There's a call waiting for you!"

Latvia instantly stood at attention, realizing the terrible mistake he had just made. His already pale skin turned to a new impossible shade of white, and he felt his spirit slowly rise out from his body.

Shouting at a person who is asleep was, to say the least, uncivilized and disgusting. Screaming at your boss while she is asleep was reckless and very brave. Screaming at the sole person who helped shape you was, indeed, suicide.

"Aaaaaah?! What's going on?!" From her sleep, she immediately snapped back to reality, violently forced out from the beautiful dream world. The abrupt nature of her awakening gave her a terrible headache and a bad case of fatigue. In response, she clutched her head. "Uh…"

"Ah! I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean to! I'm sorry, sorry, sor-"

"Raivis, stop it! Please, ...can you get out?" Anna whispered breathlessly and tried to regain control of her mind.

"Y-yeahhh! Of course! Waaaaah-" With unusual speed, the short boy flew out of the room and left his master, quickly slamming the door.

"What did I do in life that was so wrong..?" Her mood was now spoiled for the entire morning.

She attempted to get out of her man-made cocoon of blankets and, when she turned, she stretched out her arm and yawned wearily. Tossing the blanket aside, Anya swung her feet over the bed and let them fall on the cold, hardwood floor. The whole room was adorned with bright, lively colors: white wallpaper with intricate, golden patterns and a German-style parquet floor. On this lay a long, soft purple rug, given to her by her dear older sister Katyusha.* She did not own much furniture, but it would do: a small table with a mirror, her bed, a couple of additional chairs, a coffee table and, of course, her most treasured bookcase filled to capacity (…which supported the notoriety of Russians and their love for reading. From each country she visited, she brought home literature to her liking. Books were her passion: they replaced vain, hectic city life, and transferred her mind to remote, southern islands, undiscovered jungles, vast mountain ranges, and ancient shrines).

"Tch! Well, why so cold?" Cringing at its frigidness, she managed to fight it and rise to her feet.

She was wearing her favorite white lace nightgown. It was something special because her beloved younger sister, Belarus, gave it to her at her last birthday. Belarus had always made stunning textiles, but this one stood out from all the rest.

The Russian gently walked alongside the bed and found her favorite slippers in the shape of dogs. They looked peculiar, but Anya did not think so, and that was what mattered in the long run. Going further, she found her snow-white terry robe that was also woven by Natasha. (Generally, there was an assumption that all of Russia's clothes were made by her sister. The idea sometimes frightened her.) She slid her feet into the cozy fabric of her slippers, simultaneously fixing her chic, light blonde hair after putting on her robe. A small, velvet-upholstered ottoman caught her gaze, and she found herself sitting before a large mirror atop a large cabinet that covered most of the wall before her.

Beside the mirror was a bit of an altar for any girl. On the shelf in front of the mirror always lay trinkets such as nail supplies, hundreds of powders and perfumes, creams and lipsticks, hair rollers, brushes, rubber bands, and other junk. And the jewelry… countless jewelry! It was impossible to list it all!

Anna, by some miracle, fished out her comb from her collection of girl gadgets to begin her daily ritual. It always took a long time because she always had to look presentable, neat and beautiful. She loved to spend her spare time just sitting for hours in front of the mirror. It was strange, but it gave her much pleasure.

She mindlessly combed her long hair and, before she could drift off into her own little world, she heard a knock at the door.

"Huh? Ah… C-come in!" A little taken aback, she dropped the comb out of her hand. She was always a bit clumsy.

Her door opened just a crack. A quivering, young man appeared, speaking slightly above a whisper. "M-miss Anna, I'm s-s-sorry! Someone requests your presence on the phone, my b-beautiful master. I do not know who she is, but-" He halted, and, out of habit, shifted his fingers up his sleeves.

"Okay. I will be right there. Tell her I will be a couple of seconds," In response, Russia turned to Toris and gave a cute little smile.

"C-certainly!" Toris rattled off, frightened, and immediately made way into the hallway with haste.

"I wonder who it could be on a day like this?" She got up quickly, wrapping the robe around her tighter against her slender frame. She effortlessly walked out of her room and into another room further down the hall. There she found an older, black antique phone atop a carved bedside table. It was a moment before she picked up the receiver and held it against her cheek.

"Yes, yes… I'm listening..."

**xXx**

[…Please leave a review and tell us what you think! There's more to come shortly. Introductions are out of the way and we're ready to go~]

Side Notes:**  
**There are small discrepancies with various parts of the Hetalia fandom and the human names of countries. So:  
Amelia = America  
Maddie = Canada  
Anya – Anna = Russia  
Katyusha – Olga = Ukraine


	2. Chapter 2

**xXx**

The young, soft-spoken girl took in a large gulp, wrapping the phone cord around her fingers as she heard that distinct, chilling voice. Ms. Russia always sounded so ladylike and gentle, but it was a mystery what lied beyond her pleasant exterior. Then Maddie thought: why was she brought into this in the first place? Well, nonetheless, she had to respond somehow!

There was a long, eerie pause, and the peaceful nation cautiously continued as she played with the hem of her skirt feverishly. "B-Bonjour, Russia-san! It's me, C-Canada!"

She heard a soft gasp, and a sweet, sing-song voice filled the void. _"Is it really you, Maddie? Hmm, well I'm glad to hear from you! Did something terrible happen for you to call me? Haha, just kidding! What happened?"_

She shook her head frantically as if Anya could see and tightly grasped the tangled phone cord in her hand against the pit of her stomach. "It's nothing! It has been a l-long time since I've sit down and- talked to you and…" Maddie paused for a long moment. Her fingers drummed against the dark-stained wood of her French dresser. Was it even a good idea to bring up the last time they spoke? It was on not so great terms, when she assumed her proper position as neutral mediator between her brat of a sister and the Russian.

Maddie snapped out of it, clicking her feet together and standing up boldly and tall. "W-well, you've h-helped me a lot over the past few months! You know, with that sudden monster of a blizzard we had in Montreal last month. So, ...my boss suggested we'd show our gratitude!"

_ "Huuuuh? No need to thank me! I always help those who ask for my help!~"_ A long pause ensued, but then the Russian's voice sank, almost to an inaudible whisper,. "_I… I think you have more important things to do than to chat with me."_

The Canadian instantly felt some relief. Loosening her grip, her expression softened, and her signature smile once again appeared. "Y-you really think so? Well, I.." her voice waned.

_Remember what you are here to do, Maddie_.

There had to be some way to reel her in! Then she thought of the pastries that her and Kumajirou ironically made the night before. "...but what will I do with all of these Nanaimo bars? Oh, maybe I'll just give them to Cuba-san. Yeah, he likes them..."

_ "N-no! No!" _Anya interrupted. "_Mm, I don't want to offend you or anything like that. I mean… a-ah, I'm sorry, I feel bad, but… well… It must be certain that you have no time to speak with me personally…"_

"A-aww, I definitely would like to see you again, Russia-san! It means a lot to me and… I don't want to disturb you, but m-maybe I'll come to you? If you don't mind, of course! I don't know.." _Got her!_

_"Really? That's excellent! Wonderful, wonderful~! Ah, ah, It will be a pleasure to see you here at my home! I haven't had any guests in a long time, so… I'll give you a warm welcome, that's for sure!"_

"I t-think I can be there by tomorrow." She looked up at the wall, studying a painting of a smiling woman with a snow white complexion fashioning a Victorian-era dress. Things were so much simpler when she was just a child…

_ "Aww… perfect! Ha-ha! I'm looking forward to your visit! And, by the way, I would love to see that cutie Kumajirou! Will you be bringing him along?"_

"Ahahaha! You want to see him? But that's..." Before she could finish, something hard and metallic suddenly pressed up against the small of her back. Maddie froze. Amelia was up to no good again. Maybe it was time to finally take her southern sister down a notch, at least until she finished the call. Business dealings are very important, and require a lot of patience and listening: something her sister overlooked time and time again.

A newfound courage rose up from within, giving her the voice she always wished for to go above a whisper. With this, Maddie had to only turn her head slightly to see a little bear's eerie, emotionless expression behind her. The rough digging into her spine shifted deeper as she held back a shriek in pain. It was the barrel of a small pistol... America's beloved pistol, in fact. She did not leave home without the thing. So how in God's name did the bear get a hold of something like that?!

By the looks of it, she needed to end the call quicker than expected. The young Canadian girl grasped the receiver clumsily with both hands, whispering hurriedly to her comrade. "That's wonderful! Yes, yes, I'll see to it that you see him! I... I must go! See you tomorrow at 6!"

"_Stop-stop-stop! At 6?! Where?!"_

"Th-th-the same place as last time! À bientôt!" The call ended with a sudden click. Maddie exhaled a small sigh of relief when she felt the firearm ease away from her back. She was preparing to scold her companion, twirling on her heel to grasp the gun from his little paws, but she met something more sinister as her purple eyes met green.

Those familiar sharp, daring emerald eyes pierced the darkness from a shrouded corner of the room and examined the quivering young woman. "You've done well," The figure chuckled. "Now all we do is sit and wait."

Filled to the brim with frustration, her glance shifted to the floor, her eyes softening at the thought of what she'd done. The small girl grabbed her right arm at her elbow to suppress any urge to scream out. She felt herself choking as her natural soft voice was left hoarse and trembling. The tears were difficult to hold back. "I'm sorry, Anya…"

**xXx**

Arbat - a place enchanted with the blending sounds of guitar and violin; a street where different eras coexist. Old, beautiful paintings stood out against old, mottled advertisements and museums of the 18th and 19th centuries blended in with modern shops and restaurants.

Everyone can find something to do in this lovely part of town! If you are a shopaholic, and have a large wallet - please make yourself at home! Any one of Arbat's stores is waiting for you with open arms. If you're a romantic at heart, you can just walk down the street and view the colorful boutique store windows while enjoying the street music. If you crave new knowledge, you can visit various old tenement houses, museums, and buildings with a long, rich history. Don't forget the numerous statues and, of course, the beautiful "Turandot" fountain.

This is one of the very few streets of Moscow left that has kept its appearance through the centuries. The modern, bleak concrete buildings of today don't come close in comparison to Arbat's small, neat and colorful establishments. In the late 1980s, the city decided to make the street a pedestrian-only zone, which greatly pleased Moscow's residents. There are not many pedestrian streets in the capital, especially in its center. Because of this, Arbat quickly became one of the favorite holiday destinations of Muscovites yearning for a break from the hustle and bustle of the big city. He has now become the home of many creative citizens: street musicians, artists, jugglers, acrobats, and also merchants that sell books, antiques, souvenirs, and other trinkets.

Here, on the third floor of a mall, was an interesting and small restaurant, the "L***", that Anna so loved. Despite so many people roaming the shopping center, the restaurant looked almost empty.

The walls were covered in dark green Chinese silk, the floors dark parquet. Expensive furniture made of wood and light maroon curtains hung against the windows. Paintings of multiple mythological scenes in hand-carved frames could be easily found around the restaurant, creating a sense of mystery and patrons often found themselves in serious thought over these masterpieces. But this was its charm, and at first glance, it seemed rather massive and crude, but the viewer would find himself yearning to study every detail of it.

All the tables and chairs were neatly carved, which always attracted the attention of visitors. Tiny glass orbs with tiny butterflies and flower buds encased in them were stacked strategically in the center of each table, which gave the place a special charm. On the shelves was intricate pottery displaying bundles of tropical flowers and, beside them, were wooden figures of dancing girls dressed in traditional costumes (which the restaurant owner bought from different parts of the country.) In addition, the bar was entirely made of glass, and a display of expensive alcohol was organized in straight rows.

Anna knew the owner of this restaurant - it was a longtime friend. She helped him buy a space for half price in the shopping center, for which he was very grateful and, in gratitude, gave her a discount on any food or beverage she desired, regardless of how much she ordered.

"Only 5:20am… so early," Anna said to herself, looking at her watch. She was punctual this time. However, being late for important meetings was typically her routine. Coming early was something unusual and out of the ordinary, you had more of a chance for a miracle to happen! Waiting was always so boring…

Slowing climbing the stairs to the third floor to the restaurant, Anna found her favorite spot by the window. She placed her bag down against her side and waited for Maddie.

Today, she got up later than planned, getting dressed and fixing her hair with lightning speed. In the midst of all that running, she forgot about breakfast! She only had a few moments to drink a small cup of coffee, brought to her by her caring Toris. Now she felt so silly, and ordering food before Canada arrived would be improper. What would she say if Maddie arrived early and would see her devouring eggs or even oatmeal?

Tapping her fingers against the table out of boredom, she decided to waste some time by looking at the people who always hurried along the street. It was a fascinating experience when you consider each person was unique with their own special personality traits and…

"_Oh God, where is she? Did she bail out on me? Then what…?" _The long wait always was a hell of a test for her (although she was not the most punctual person in the world and often made people wait a long time herself.) Anna took off her coat and gloves because she was already getting warm. When she was bored, she had to find a distraction from her thoughts and would look for an interesting object to occupy her time. On the desk before her was a purple orchid encased in a small sphere. She loved flowers: they gave her comfort. They made her reminisce about many wonderful, unforgettable memories, and looking at them made her realize that life wasn't so bad after all...

**xXx**


End file.
